


No 80 proof has ever got me buzzing like this

by yourbuttervoicedbeau (kiwiana)



Series: Songs from the Jukebox [Prompt Fills] [60]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: M/M, POV David Rose, Post-Canon, Prompt Fill, Sometimes love is ogling the same people, and sometimes it's a little more than that, threesomes are vaguely alluded to in this fic so feel free to skip if that's not your thing!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:01:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27929413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwiana/pseuds/yourbuttervoicedbeau
Summary: Behind him, Stevie lets loose a low whistle. “Wow, Jake could seriously get it.”David snorts. “Jake has got it.”“Not from Patrick, he hasn’t.” Stevie’s hand grips his elbow as she peers around him to take in Patrick’s expression, and even though David isn’t looking at her the smirk is evident in her voice. “And I think Patrick might be upset about that.”
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Songs from the Jukebox [Prompt Fills] [60]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1775569
Comments: 36
Kudos: 199





	No 80 proof has ever got me buzzing like this

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maxbegone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maxbegone/gifts).



> There are a lot of things I love about maxbegone, but somewhere fairly high up the list is her unrelenting support and encouragement of my frankly ridiculous levels of thirst for Steve Lund. And sometimes that support and encouragement looks like seeing the pics he posts on Instagram and saying things like "Jake grows his hair out and David, Patrick, and Stevie are all flustered." I was never going to be able to resist that.
> 
> Title is from Christian Kane (someone else I have ridiculous levels of thirst for, while we're on the topic).

Several hours into their evening at the Wobbly Elm, David still hasn’t quite managed to contain his grin as he leans precariously off his barstool and onto Patrick’s shoulder, Stevie on his other side. In the almost three months since the wedding, they haven’t spent as much time together as David would like — between Stevie travelling back and forth between the USA and Canada setting up new Rosebud motels, and David and Patrick moving into the cottage, there haven’t been many chances to hang out just the three of them. But they’re about to go into the holiday shopping season, and David knows from the last two Christmases since the store opened that there’s no way they’ll have the time or energy to do anything after work once December hits, so he’d insisted that they have a proper night out while they still could. Stevie had agreed quickly and with minimal sarcasm, which David had interpreted as her missing him as much as he’s missed her, and they’d been committed enough to having a good time that they’d sucked up the ten minutes of non-stop chatter than comes with booking a ride via Rides By Ray.

They’re a few rounds in, and everything is delightfully fuzzy: the gentle circle Patrick’s thumb is pressing into his shoulder, the sharp edges of Stevie’s smile as she tells them about the comedy of errors that was the opening day of their latest location in Minnesota, whatever godawful country music is currently being pumped out of the jukebox. David’s gulping down the last of his latest pint of blueberry cider — a _compromise_ between Patrick’s earnest insistence that they should support local breweries and David’s absolute refusal to drink beer — when a wave of cold air hits him and makes him shiver. They really did sit in the worst spot, right in the path of the arctic blast that follows every person who opens the door, but when David twists around, looking towards the entrance to figure out who he should hate for daring to momentarily inconvenience him this time, he chokes on his drink. 

The last time he saw Jake was about a month before he and Patrick got married, when they accidentally accepted an invitation to an orgy and made a semi-graceful at best exit. He stares as Jake hangs his coat up on the rack inside the door, the back and arm muscles he’s built up from years of woodworking rippling through the unseasonably thin and tight long-sleeved t-shirt he’s wearing as he does. He’s not really aware that he’s sat up straight until he realises he can see more of Patrick in his peripheral vision than he could before, and he bites back a smile at the flush creeping up from under the collar of Patrick’s shirt. When he glances back towards Jake, he understands the reason Patrick is so flustered immediately; Jake has just pulled off his toque to reveal that his hair is a lot longer than David’s ever seen it, falling somewhat wildly past his ears. It’s… really hot, and David wouldn’t be surprised if his face is as flushed as Patrick’s is. 

Behind him, Stevie lets loose a low whistle. “Wow, Jake could seriously get it.”

David snorts. “Jake _has_ got it.”

“Not from Patrick, he hasn’t.” Stevie’s hand grips his elbow as she peers around him to take in Patrick’s expression, and even though David isn’t looking at her the smirk is evident in her voice. “And I think Patrick might be upset about that.”

David swallows back a laugh as Patrick — witty, snarky Patrick, who has always been quick enough to give as good as he gets from either of him — just stutters as he searches for a response. “Shut up, Stevie.”

Stevie cackles, but David ignores her in favour of running a soothing hand down Patrick’s back as Patrick’s expression turns a little more guilty. Part of him wants to kiss Patrick on the nose and tell him to embrace his attraction to men — David knows it’s no threat to him; knows the only way Patrick’s ever going to act on it is with David right there beside him, freely and enthusiastically consenting — and another part of him wants to drag Patrick into the bathroom and let them both work out the heat thrumming under their skin. Before he can decide which of these is less likely to get them mocked by Stevie, Jake’s gaze lands on the three of them and his eyes light up as he strides over.

“Fancy seeing you guys here.” Patrick is closest to the door and his eyes widen as Jake leans in, his hand on Patrick’s shoulder for balance as he presses a quick kiss to his lips. “Marriage suits you, Patrick.”

“Um.” Patrick swallows hard; David tracks the movement of his Adam’s apple as he does. “Thanks.” 

“David, you’re looking gorgeous as always.” Jake’s clearly leaning into the whole shaggy woodsman aesthetic — his stubble scrapes along David’s chin, and David can hear Patrick sucking in a shuddering breath next to him. When Jake pulls away David glances over, worried, but Patrick’s eyes are dark and locked on him in a way that makes heat curl low in David’s stomach. He’s dimly aware that Stevie’s getting her own overfamiliar greeting on his other side, but David’s too distracted by the way Patrick’s hand has come to rest on his thigh, just a fraction higher than he’d normally put it in public.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to your evening.” Amusement laces Jake’s tone, and when David looks up at him, he’s grinning down at where Patrick’s fingertips are digging into the fabric of David’s pants. “Enjoy yourselves, boys. Stevie.” With one last nod at the three of them, he walks over to join a couple of people by the pool table, and if David’s watching him leave… well. He knows both Patrick and Stevie are doing exactly the same thing.

When he pulls his eyes back to Patrick’s face, the telltale blush is still there, but Patrick is looking back at him with a soft smile. He leans in, his left hand wrapping around David’s neck so the coolness of his wedding ring sears into the skin there as he captures David’s lips in a not entirely appropriate for the venue kiss.

“Gross. I’m going to the bathroom.” Stevie brushes past them as Patrick pulls back, expression gratifyingly dazed. 

“I love you, David.” 

“I know.” He reaches out to squeeze Patrick’s upper arm. “I _also_ know Jake is looking _very_ good tonight.”

“Mm.” Patrick kisses him on the cheek. “Another round?”

“Sure.” David busies himself with his phone while Patrick signals Darlene, so he’s not paying much attention as Patrick orders fresh drinks for the three of them. It’s not until a new glass appears under his nose that he glances at it, then looks up at Patrick, puzzled.

“This isn’t what we were drinking.”

Patrick just looks back at him, his gaze disconcertingly steady even as the flush in his cheeks deepens. “If you don’t want it, that’s fine. I’ll order us something else.”

David keeps his eyes locked on his husband’s as he picks up the glass in front of him, smirking around the rim as they both take a sip of their whiskey.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Come and find me on [Tumblr](http://yourbuttervoicedbeau.tumblr.com).


End file.
